


Are you sure you want to delete this voicemail?

by cantdrawshaw



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantdrawshaw/pseuds/cantdrawshaw
Summary: NoorYes[Yes]Deleted“No,” Maggie breathes out in horror. “Nonononononononono!”
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, past Lucy Lane/Maggie Sawyer
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	Are you sure you want to delete this voicemail?

> “ _Hey, babe. Just calling to ask if you wanted me to pick up anything for dinner tonight. We finished up the prep for the McCallister case, so I’m all done for the day. I could stop at Chin’s and get your favorite. Let me know. But if I don’t hear from you, I’m totally getting takeout from that place you hate on Thirty-Third. Anyway, I hope you’re having a good day; I’ll see you when you get home. I love you.”_

Maggie’s listened to the voicemail hundreds of times. She knows the words by heart, every inflection, every background noise, the beep of the car unlocking and the sudden cessation of wind where Lucy had gotten into the driver’s seat, her laugh as she teasingly threatened Maggie with gross takeout from the place she had loved and Maggie had hated.

(She hasn’t been able to eat at Chin’s since, but every year she orders Lucy’s favorite from Lee’s on Thirty-Third Avenue.)

It’s been almost six years.

Six years since she’d been pulled off the street by her captain mid-way through her shift, making her think for a split second that she had done something wrong.

Six years since she had to see the look in his eyes as he removed his hat and told her they’d identified the victim of the traffic accident that had kept half her squad busy on the other side of her beat.

Six years since she had found the missed call notification and the preceding _New Voicemail,_ hours later when she had checked her phone, still in her disheveled uniform pants and the undershirt she always wore under her vest.

Six years since she lost her wife.

She hadn’t been able to listen to the message at first. The thought was too painful, but she’d made sure to save it in her mailbox, the thought of deleting it even worse. She must have known she would need it someday, but it had taken about seven months and the realization that she was forgetting what Lucy’s voice sounded like in order for her to actually play it. Maggie had gotten wasted and her fingers had dialed into her voicemail before her mind could protest.

She’d cried for hours after hearing it for the first time.

Hearing Lucy’s voice for the last time.

But it had gotten easier after that. Now, she listens to it all the time. When she’s in a particularly self-deprecating mood and needs to hear that last ‘I love you’ to remind herself that she’s capable of being loved; when she’s in a good mood and wants to hear her wife’s voice to remind her of all the things she’s thankful for; on their anniversary, or Lucy’s birthday; and all the times in between when she just _wants_ to.

She’s even listened to it with Alex, last year on the five-year mark, when she had told Alex about it. They’d been dating for four months at that point, and Alex had asked her what was wrong, and Maggie had just needed somebody else to know about it, because before that night, the message had been Maggie’s secret. And Alex had held her through it and respected that she didn’t want to talk much after. That was the replay that had probably been the most cathartic for Maggie.

But today when she opens up her voicemail app, it’s for a different reason.

Mainly: it’s full.

She’d gotten a grumpy complaint earlier that day from a coworker who tried to leave a message about a case they’re working together. She’d seen the notification that her mailbox was full and immediately called him back, but he still felt the need to chew her out for it. She just hasn’t gotten the chance to deal with it until now.

Alex isn’t home yet, but Maggie’s got dinner in the oven and her comfy sweats on and nothing else to worry about for the night. So, she sits down at the table and takes the time to do a little housekeeping.

She puts the phone on speaker and starts going through each message one by one. Most of them are work-related, and some include important information on still-active cases, which are the only ones she bothers to save. But there’s still plenty to go through that are meaningless and no longer needed.

She should probably clean this out more often, she reprimands herself, considering how often she uses her voicemail.

She gets in a rhythm after the first few, a pattern of –

_Are you sure you want to delete this voicemail?_

_**No** _or **_Yes_**

– playing out on the screen.

The timer goes off on the oven, startling her out of her trance. She just needs to take the dish out to cool for a while, and Alex should be getting home any minute now, so she’ll have perfect timing. She brings her phone with her to the kitchen, Lucy’s message visible at the bottom of the list, meaning she only has a few more to go through until she’s finished.

Casserole dish safely out of the oven and on the stove to cool, Maggie goes through the last few messages rapid-fire, as they’re all over a year old and not from any numbers she recognizes. Her ears are otherwise occupied listening towards the door for the jingling of keys that will signal Alex’s arrival.

_Are you sure you want to delete this voicemail?_

_**No** _or **_Yes_**

**[Yes]**

_Deleted_

Lucy’s message gets erased before her eyes.

She was moving too quickly, hadn’t realized she reached the end of the list.

“No,” Maggie breathes out in horror. “Nonononononononono!”

She jolts upright from where she’s leaning on the counter so fast she drops the phone. As if in slow motion, she watches as it hits the kitchen tiles with a sickening crack.

She’s frozen for a beat and then she’s scrambling for the device, picking it up and noticing the crack that’s fresh in the top left corner. But she doesn’t have time to worry about that now, just as long as the screen’s still functioning and she can hit the _Undo_ option in time, but her hands are shaking and –

It disappears a millisecond before her finger can hit it.

_Gone._

Lucy’s message is gone.

“Okay,” she says out loud, blowing out a big breath of air. “Okay, don’t panic, let’s not panic yet.”

Her voice, somehow, is a lot steadier than the rest of her.

She thumbs over to her search engine and types out her provider name followed by ‘cab you retrieve a delted voicemaik’ and huffs in frustration when her fingers and brain don’t want to cooperate. But her query gets the point across and she’s directed to her carrier’s voicemail messaging system information page.

She scrolls down the page until she finds what she’s looking for in the Question and Answers section.

**_Can deleted voicemails be retrieved?_ **

_No, once a voicemail has been erased, the message is permanently deleted from the voicemail network._

Dread sinks into her stomach like a stone.

The tears come hot and fast, until the screen is so blurred in front of her she can barely make it out.

Her knees crumple and she sinks down to the floor, the pang of grief in her chest so sharp it physically hurts.

It takes her a minute to realize the keening sound suddenly ringing in her ears is coming from her own mouth.

With a scream of rage, Maggie throws her phone as hard as she can across the room. She hears the collision, but she doesn’t care what happens to it this time.

She doesn’t care about anything now.

Her hands fist themselves roughly in her hair as her emotions overwhelm her, body shaking and heart pounding. She wants to scream again, but all that’s coming out now are harsh, choppy sobs. Her legs are going numb from the way she’s crouching and her hands ache with how hard she’s clenching them, but she doesn’t feel anything except the gaping hole in her chest.

Her own carelessness – her own _stupidity_ – has just cost her one of the most important memories she has of Lucy.

It’s almost like she’s losing her all over again.

Maggie doesn’t know how long she’s there on the floor like that. Doesn’t know how long it takes Alex to get home and find her. She doesn’t even hear her come in or feel her approach, is only made aware of her presence when a warm hand comes to rest on her arm.

She opens her eyes and sees Alex through her tears, staring at her in concern.

“Maggie? What happened? Are you hurt?”

She manages to shake her head no, but all she’s able to gasp out is a broken, “Alex.”

It’s all the cue Alex needs to take her in her arms, and Maggie practically climbs in her lap as the hug only makes her sob harder. Alex tries to shush her, rubbing her back and rocking from side to side.

“The message,” Maggie hiccups into Alex’s neck. “Lucy’s message. I accident-accidentally deleted Lucy’s message.”

She chokes on her next inhale. Her throat feels like it’s closing and her heart is shattering into a million tiny pieces _everything hurts and she can’t breathe–_

“Okay, Maggie, sweetie. Try to take a deep breath. You’re gonna make yourself sick. C’mon, with me.”

Alex pushes her back just far enough so they can see each other’s faces, and Maggie realizes Alex is crying softly with her. But it doesn’t make her lungs want to work any more.

“I can’t–”

Alex nods encouragingly. “I know, I know it hurts. But let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Let’s just focus on breathing right now.”

Maggie nods and is able to shakily copy Alex as she inhales exaggeratedly. A few minutes and several repetitions later, she’s a lot calmer, better able to take in her surroundings.

Like the fact that she’s sitting on top of Alex on the hard kitchen floor, and if s _he’s_ stiff from the position, then Alex has to be even more so.

She pulls back, letting Alex’s arms disengage from their hold. “Sorry.” Her throat is raw, and she tries to wipe her face with her arm, but it’s a mess of snot and tears, so it’s a fruitless endeavor.

“Don’t apologize,” Alex says, brushing some hair behind Maggie’s ear and offering her own shirt sleeve so Maggie can wipe her eyes. “Are you sure there isn’t anything we can do?”

Maggie shakes her head. “I looked it up.” She motions absently to a phone that isn’t there before remembering she threw it. “I think I broke my phone,” she tells Alex sheepishly.

Alex pulls hers out instead and ends up on the same page Maggie had found. She frowns as she reads, her brow furrowing in that way it does when she’s thinking hard. “Do you want me to call the company and ask? Maybe there’s something they can do from their end.”

Maggie feels a thrill of hope run through her, but she tries to quell it before it gets too big. Instead, she lets out a shaky laugh. “You’d do that for me, Danvers?” she asks, knowing how much Alex hates phone calls.

Alex just kisses her forehead, as if it’s the simplest question in the world. “Of course.”

Alex gets her a glass of water and leads her over to the couch, dinner left forgotten on the stove. Maggie curls up on one end while Alex sits on the other, dialing the number before holding the phone up to her ear. Maggie hears her give her phone and the account numbers, but she zones out other than noting that Alex gets placed on hold several times. She’s too exhausted to take in much of the actual conversation, her mind trying desperately not to give in to the hope that’s trying to take root in her heart.

She only tunes back in when she hears Alex say a final, “Okay, thank you. ‘Bye.”

Alex turns to her with a sad smile and a small shake of her head.

“I’m sorry.”

Maggie looks away, ducking her head as her chin quivers. She had let herself hope anyway. “Thanks for trying.”

The tears come again, but they’re silent this time, her body too tired to cry any harder.

She falls into Alex’s side when she scoots closer, and she lets Alex take the lead after that.

An hour later, they’re both tucked into bed, leaning against the headboard, Maggie’s head resting on Alex’s shoulder. Alex had tried to reheat their dinner, but Maggie wasn’t hungry, and even Alex had barely touched hers. Maggie’s phone had been retrieved from wherever it had landed, mangled beyond repair, and Alex had promised to help her buy a new one in the morning.

But for now, Maggie just sits, letting Alex play with her hair and waiting for the painkillers she’d taken to kick in and fight back the ache in her temples that all the crying had caused.

Alex is pretty silent, but Maggie can’t really blame her. She doesn’t know what to say either.

But Alex always finds a way to surprise her.

“Tell me about her.”

It makes Maggie lift her head, but Alex keeps speaking. “Lucy. I’ve seen pictures, but you never really talk about her. What was she like?”

It’s true; Maggie hasn’t talked much about Lucy with Alex, beyond the basics. She supposes it’s because she thought it would be awkward, talking about her late-wife with her now-girlfriend. But right now, she finds she wants nothing more than to gush about her to Alex, to have someone else understand just how wonderful she really was.

Alex must take her silence as she thinks as a bad sign. “You don’t have to,” she starts, fidgeting nervously, “but I thought–”

Maggie cuts her off. “I want to. I just don’t know where to start.”

Alex smiles, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers. “Start anywhere you’d like.”

Maggie thinks. “She was just– Everyone assumed we met at work. You know, worked on the same case or something? But I was just a beat cop back then, fresh out of the academy, nowhere near the level of the cases she was working. I had heard her name, knew she had transferred in from Metropolis, heard some rumors about how feisty she could be, but that was it.

“So no, we didn’t meet at work. We met at a bar one night. Just happened to walk up to the counter to order at the same time, but she always liked to tell people it was more dramatic, all, our-eyes-met-from-across-the-room-and-sparks-flew.”

Maggie rolls her eyes, chuckling with the memory. “And, God, she was just so pretty, you know?”

Alex nods.

“We talked for hours that night. And after we said goodbye, I realized I had gotten so caught up in it all that I’d forgotten to get her number. I kicked myself silly for it for days. So I went back to the bar the next week, hoping she’d be there again. And she was. She told me later that she had gone back every night that week hoping to run into me again. Even tried to ask around and see if anyone there knew me.

“She was persistent like that. And she was smart, really smart, and damn good at her job. She could be pretty ruthless, especially if she didn’t like you. But she was also so kind, and funny, and she had this habit of telling the most inappropriate jokes at the worst possible times.” She laughs wetly. “I miss her so much.”

“She sounds amazing. I would have loved to meet her.”

Maggie sinks so she’s laying down completely and cuddles close to Alex’s chest when she does the same. “I think you would have really liked her. I know she would have loved you. We always had the same taste in women.”

That makes Alex chuckle. She kisses the top of Maggie’s head. “Thanks for sharing all that with me.”

“Thanks for listening,” Maggie says sincerely. “I’m sorry if it’s– if it’s weird for you or–”

Alex cuts her off by pulling her even closer. “I’m always here to listen, to whatever you want to tell me. I promise.”

Maggie closes her eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.”

…

Maggie wakes to Alex talking quietly to someone in the kitchen. She peers blearily in that direction and notices that the sun isn’t even up yet, and therefore it’s way too early to get up for a weekend. Alex turns and Maggie realizes she’s talking on the phone, but she’s still half asleep and can’t give it much more thought than that.

She closes her eyes again.

The next time she wakes, the previous day’s events hit her like a freight train to the chest. But when her eyes open, Alex is there, and she smiles when she notices Maggie awake.

“Hey, pretty lady. I made you some breakfast.”

Maggie presses up on her elbows. “Who was that on the phone earlier?”

Alex’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, did you hear that? I was trying not to wake you up. It was just Winn.”

“Something come up at work?”

“Nothing he couldn’t handle,” Alex assures her before changing the topic completely. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess.” Maggie takes a deep breath, taking stock of her body. “I am pretty hungry, though.”

Alex leads her over to the dining table.

They have a simple day after breakfast. Maggie isn’t up for much, and while she normally takes a power yoga class on Saturday mornings, she opts instead for a more relaxing yoga class her gym holds in the slot afterward. Alex joins her, and after forty-five minutes of gentle stretching and meditation, she starts to feel a little better.

However, her mood sours when they go to the store to get a new phone after lunch. The clerk helping them out is just too overeager and peppy and tries to get Maggie interested in the latest updates and all kinds of different cases and Maggie just can’t bring herself to care. She ends up letting Alex do most of the talking.

They are able to extract all her stuff from the broken shell of her old phone, the hard drive somehow still intact. She supposes that’s good news, but the one thing she really wants still isn’t there, so she can’t really feel that happy about it. She simply slides her new phone into her bag and gives the clerk a tight-lipped smile in thanks on their way out.

They take a walk through the park and are just starting to debate what to do for dinner when Alex gets a text. Her entire face lights up as she reads it, and she looks at Maggie with a beaming smile.

“We have to stop at the DEO.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll explain when we get there,” Alex says, practically jumping on the spot. “Please, just trust me.”

And of course, Maggie does, so to the DEO they go.

She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but the sight they’re met with when they get to the main console room is not it. A bedraggled looking Winn is huddled around his computer with about a dozen sweet wrappers and empty coffee cups scattered around his desk.

He looks tired, to put it mildly, but his eyes light up as soon as he sees them.

“Alex! Maggie! I did it! It only took me,” he checks his watch, “twelve hours and thirty-seven minutes, but I did it!”

“Yeah, you did!” Alex gives him a high-five. “I knew if anyone could do it, it’d be you.”

Maggie is clueless. “Did what? What’s going on?”

Winn grabs a pair of headphones and spins around in his chair to hand them to Maggie. “It would probably be easier to just show you. Here.”

He stands up and offers the seat to her.

Maggie sits, and as soon as she gets the headphones situated, Winn presses play on something on the screen.

_“Hey, babe…”_

Maggie gasps.

_“Just calling to ask if you wanted me to pick up anything for–”_

Maggie rips the headphones off and looks at them in shock. “It’s… you… how did you–?”

Winn points at Alex. “This one called me at like four in the morning and told me what happened, asked if there was anything I could do. And it turns out there was! I probably shouldn’t tell you too many of the details because of the whole, you know, _cop-thing,_ but the long and short of it is that nothing truly gets deleted when it comes to data, you just need the right– oof.”

Maggie throws herself at him, gripping him in the tightest hug she can manage.

“Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. You have no idea what this means to me.”

Winn pats her awkwardly on the back. “No problem, Maggie. It was– wha– hey, hey, don’t cry. If you cry, I’m gonna cry.”

But it’s far too late, and professional setting or not, Maggie starts bawling into Winn’s shoulder.

Alex places a hand on her back, and Maggie lets Winn off the hook to hug her girlfriend instead. She presses a sloppy, salt-tinged kiss to Alex’s lips before she giggles, completely overjoyed.

“I can’t believe you woke Winn up that early just for this.”

“In my defense, it was not four in the morning; I waited until 4:30 at the least,” Alex says jokingly. “I couldn’t sleep thinking there might be something else I could try. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it didn’t work.”

“Did you doubt my tech skills, Alex Danvers?” Winn interrupts.

Alex kisses his cheek, making him blush. “Not for a moment.”

Maggie goes back to the computer, letting the message she thought she’d never hear again play out in full this time. It’s all there, every last second.

“I’ll make sure you get a bunch of different copies. I can even put it on a CD for you,” Winn tells her.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you.”

_“–I hope you’re having a good day. I’ll see you when you get home. I love you.”_

****

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation for this beyond the fact that I saw a comic about someone beating the high score on a DDR song of their friend who passed away and replacing their initials on the save file. I got really morbid thinking about it apparently, and my brain wouldn't leave this alone. (Sorry, Lucy. Also, Maggie. I sure do hurt Maggie a lot.)
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts or any questions you have on this AU.
> 
> Also (because I already wasn't sad enough, I guess) I couldn't stop thinking about how gut-wrenching Alex's kidnapping would be in this AU. Because maybe Maggie couldn't have done anything to save Lucy, but she sure as hell could do something to save Alex.


End file.
